


Stealing Rapunzel

by Rainywriter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Death of minor characters, Emotional Manipulation, Evil Shadows, F/M, Kidnapping, Violence, disturbing images, magical powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-10 19:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2037459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainywriter/pseuds/Rainywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Geraldine is seventeen she escapes to San Francisco with the love of her life to start her happily ever after. When that happiness proves to be short-lived, Geraldine takes her revenge by stealing his child - the child he's had with another woman - and running away. But everything is not what it seems and the stolen child, now named Anne, has a strange and magical gift. Years pass, and Anne grows up blissful and unaware of her origins, calling Geraldine "Grandma" and living a quiet, almost idyllic life. Enter Harold, a tall, sinister man with his own agenda for Anne, add a sprinkling of magic, true love and a heavy dose of treachery, and Anne's life will never be the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Days Long Past

**Author's Note:**

> This is not technically a WIP - all chapters have been written and will be posted here once they have been gone over one final time. Feedback is awesome and most appreciated!

**  
**Pendleton, Oregon  
 _June 21, 1967_

 

The paper-white summer moon hung full in the sky outside Geraldine’s window, shining in through the dusty panes of glass and casting the entire bedroom into sharp, ghostly shades of grey and white. It was late, nearly midnight, but Geraldine was far from sleep as she bustled about her room and stuffed clothes into a backpack. At seventeen she was ready to take on the world as a full-fledged adult, and prove she was no longer the child her parents thought she was.

San Francisco was waiting, calling like a siren song and she was leaving. San Francisco – where everything interesting and important seemed to be happening, and Geraldine wanted to be a part of it. Now if only her thumping heartbeat didn’t wake up everyone in the house – everyone who didn’t know she was leaving. She’d already written her good-bye letter, folded it neatly and placed it on her pillow. Her mother would find it in the morning when she came to gripe at Geraldine for being a lazy, no-good sleepyhead and really, would it kill her to be up before ten o’clock in the morning?

Geraldine tucked a lock of flat-ironed blonde hair behind her ear and looked around nervously. There was still so much left. Toys. Memories. Souvenirs. Once she and Matthew were settled she figured she could send for the rest of her possessions. Her parents wouldn’t be so heartless as to not send them, or so she hoped. She bit her lower lip until it turned cherry red, and only stopped when she heard something tapping against the glass of her windowpane. Her heart seemed to stutter as she raced to the window and looked out.

Matthew Merriman stood on the other side of the window, his expression urgent. Geraldine smiled at him through the glass as a wave of relief washed over her.  _Finally_. He grinned back at her and splayed a hand against the glass. Geraldine pressed her face there, sighing. This was the last step to freedom. Like the glass, all barriers were falling away and now she could be with Matthew forever, no matter that he was twenty-two and her parents hated that Geraldine had fallen for such an older boy.

Matthew tapped the glass once more, and then stepped back and made a sweeping bow, beckoning Geraldine to his motorcycle as if it was a chariot, and Geraldine choked on her laughter. Have to be quiet, she reminded herself. Her parents and older sister were sleeping, and her plans would be ruined should she accidentally awaken them. She fought with her backpack to get it to close and the zipper looked like it was about to burst, but Geraldine ignored it and slung it over her shoulder. She exited her bedroom and carefully shut the door softly behind her.

Janice was very obviously Geraldine’s sister. Separated by four years and a handful of days, they shared the same green eyes, tip-tilted nose and cinnamon sprinkling of freckles on their cheeks. Perhaps Janice’s nose was a little bigger, a little less pixie-ish; perhaps her eyes were just a little closer together; her hair a dark gold where Geraldine’s was fair, but they were still sisters. And now said sister was standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall in a pair of cut-off denim shorts and a sleeveless top made of crocheted daisies sewn together. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her legs were crossed at the ankles, and it was a casual, if determined pose.

“Going somewhere, little sis?”

Geraldine froze in place with her incriminating backpack hitched up on one shoulder, looking up with large eyes, because Janice was not only older, but taller, too. Desperately she tried to come up with an answer, but all that escaped her too dry lips was a squeak.

“So that’s a yes, then.”

Geraldine’s eyes widened even further. This was it. Mission aborted. The dream dying before it even got off the ground. Her shoulders slumped, her gaze sinking to the floor and to Janice’s bare feet. Defeated, she waited for her sister to sound the alarm.

“You going with Matthew? Where?” Janice’s voice was soft, unexpectedly so.

“What?”

“Where?” Janice repeated, her tone harder now, her eyes narrowing.

Geraldine wasn't sure she should say. What if her father came after her? Her mother would certainly want him to, never mind that Geraldine would be eighteen in September and had just graduated high school.

“Look, ‘Dine, if you don’t tell me where then I swear I will wake up Mom and Dad this very minute and blow your plans to hell and back.”

“Okay, okay,” Geraldine said in a near whisper. “San Francisco.”

Janice actually looked sad, but she took a deep breath and smiled. Geraldine, still in fight or flight mode, simply blinked. Was Janice letting her go?

“At least let me walk you out, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Together they stole out of the house, furtively opening and closing the door to avoid any tell-tale squeaks. Once outside Geraldine broke into a run, the soft pads of her moccasins kicking up little puffs of dust in the dirt. She threw herself into Matthew’s arms, wanting to kiss him senseless but restraining herself because of Janice, who was still standing on the porch.

“Hi Jan,” Matthew said, his voice and expression uncertain. Janice nodded her acknowledgement at him, her eyes narrowed. Leaving the porch, she stalked aggressively toward Geraldine and Matthew.

“Matt. I swear to God you’d better take care of her or so help me-“

“Jan!” Geraldine hissed, barely above a whisper. Her eyes darted up toward the second storey of the house, but their parents’ bedroom was on the other side, so there was little chance of waking them up.

“Whoa, whoa! I promise I’ll take care of her,” Matthew said, holding his hands up in surrender, almost as if Janice had a gun pointed at him. “Nothing bad will happen, I swear.”

“Better not. I trust you,” Janice said, and her voice sounded anything but trusting. She impulsively scooped Geraldine into a hug, and Geraldine hugged her back. Sure, they’d fought more than most siblings usually did, but this was a good-bye, and who knew if or when they would see each other again? Geraldine fought back a lump in her throat and the sudden wetness that sprang to her eyes as she pulled away from the hug. She shifted her gaze to Matthew, who was waiting patiently for her to finish her good-bye.

“Are you ready?” Matthew asked after a moment, and Geraldine shot him a conspiratory look, which he returned. She nodded at him and together, Geraldine and Matthew started to push the motorcycle down the lane, trying to remain quiet. Under the tires the gravel popped and crunched, and Geraldine winced at every sound.

“Wait!” Janice ran after them. She plucked a wildflower from the side of the road and tucked it behind Geraldine’s ear. Geraldine managed a watery smile.

“What’s this for?” she asked her sister.

“Oh you know, the song, ‘Going to San Francisco’. It’s a flower . . . in your hair.” She laughed a little, and Geraldine hugged her again.

“I’ll write you know. I promise I will.”

She turned away from Janice and started pushing the motorcycle again. They pushed it for what seemed a long ways, but when Geraldine glanced over her shoulder it felt like they were still too close to the house to risk starting the machine up. Finally Matthew nodded to her and climbed on the bike, and Geraldine situated herself behind him.

Her stomach fell to her knees when Matthew turned the ignition, bringing it to life with a roar. Geraldine couldn’t stop the grin that split her face as he accelerated. The wind whipped her long blonde hair behind her and she laughed and hung on for dear life. The road rushed past, bearing her away from her old life, and she couldn’t resist letting a cry of unbridled joy (or was it terror?) escape her lips. It was 1967, the Summer of Love, the sky was the limit, and the world had better be ready for Geraldine Stevens.

“Good luck, ‘Dine,” Janice whispered from the shadows by the side of the road. “I’ll miss you.”

 

 

 

 

 


	2. The Sweet Revenge

 

 

_San Francisco, California_

_1996_

  
Pinned to the wall next to the Geraldine’s front door was a letter. The letter was delivered by mail nearly a month ago, bearing the news that her older sister, Janice, had tragically passed away and left the old farmhouse to her. That house was a twelve hour drive from San Francisco, but it may as well have existed in a different world. Every once in a while a gust of air from the open window caught the letter and made it flutter ever so slightly, reminding Geraldine of its presence. You’re going home, it seemed to say, and Geraldine fought the urge to nod at it.  _Yes_ , she thought.  _I’m going home_.  
  
Geraldine was aware that once she moved back to Pendleton ( _home_ , the letter insisted with a flutter) she’d never again return to San Francisco. She wondered if she’d miss it, but knew she had no reason to stay. After all, the cost of living kept climbing and her job at the public library barely paid the rent. Years ago, Geraldine had experienced the excitement of young love here, and years ago, she had lost that love. It was time to move on, and ironically, Geraldine was moving forward by moving  _back_.  
  
In some ways this move was vastly different than the one that brought her here, and in some ways it was very similar. She was taking more than a backpack-full, but no more than would fit in her car. Even then, it wasn’t much – just her clothing, her electronics and some mementos. The house was fully furnished, after all. It would be the first time Geraldine had set foot on Oregon soil since she ran away from it back in 1967. Back then, she didn’t think she’d ever return. She wondered what changed, wondered if she’d recognize it, and wondered if anyone will remember her. She doubted it.  
  
Geraldine was nearly ready to leave. There was only one box left to sort through, full of older stuff she’d been avoiding like the plague. As she opened the dusty flaps she knew that this particular box hadn’t been opened since the seventies. It was a keepsake box, full of trinkets and cards and dried flowers. There was even a cheesy achievement certificate or two from the library from her early days of employment there, awarded to her for completing some writing course or another. She threw most of it in the trash, except for the letters from Janice. They were few and far between and had gradually tapered off once Janice had married and birthed her daughter, but now that Jan was gone they seemed especially precious.  
  
And then – in the very bottom of the box Geraldine found something she’d nearly forgotten. Although, to be perfectly honest, she could never really forget it. The memory had a tendency to pop up at the most inopportune times and Geraldine would squash it back into oblivion; nice, neat, tidy and where it belonged.

 

 

  
**Half Moon Bay, California**   
_September 14, 1969_

  
The sun was just barely beginning to sink toward the horizon as Geraldine lay back on the beach, digging her elbows and her bare toes into the sand. Her long blonde hair was clumped with sand and seawater and she thought to herself,  _this has been a perfect day_.  
  
Geraldine closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax completely against the sand, enjoying the warmth seeping into her skin. The sun shone down on her and she soaked it in, listening to the roar of the waves as they crested on the beach.  
  
She didn’t hear anyone approach, but suddenly someone was standing in her sunlight, casting her in shadow. Geraldine opened her eyes and squinted up at the intruder, but didn’t recognize the silhouette. His build was familiar, but his hair was cropped short. Briefly she wondered who this clean-cut square was looming over her before recognition stabbed her like an electrical charge and she jolted upright.  
  
“ _Matthew_? You cut your hair?”  
  
He smiled at her shyly and held out a bouquet of flowers.  
  
“Happy birthday, ‘Dine. I have something to tell you.”  
  
Geraldine stood up quickly, apprehensive. She dusted as much sand off of her as possible and looked Matthew in the eye, her eyebrows drawn together in a frown despite the flowers he was trying to hand off to her.  
  
“My birthday was a week ago, stupid,” she said, taking the flowers. “What’s going on? What did you do?”  
  
Geraldine’s first reaction to the news was anger, then terror, and finally a sad sort of broken acceptance. Matthew was going to Vietnam and the worst part? He volunteered. He volunteered and didn’t even ask her first. The sadness tended to veer back toward rage when she thought of it that way.  
  
“You cut your hair,” she said, heartbroken. She reached up with a slim, long-fingered hand and gently ran her fingertips over the stubble of his shorn locks. The haircut made it too real. As much as she tried to pretend that he wasn’t really leaving, the reality of it was like a slap in the face. He ran his own finger through Geraldine’s long blonde tresses and pulled her close to him. Despite her anger, she allowed it.  
  
“They can’t cut your hair though,” Matthew said, faking a smile. “My Rapunzel.”  
  
 _Rapunzel_. It was his nickname for her because he loved her long hair. He’d begun calling her that the first night they’d met, and the nickname had stuck.  
  
“I want you to have this,” he said, pulling a necklace from his pocket. It was simple; a small sapphire teardrop on a thin gold chain. Geraldine’s eyes widened.  
  
“How did you-“  
  
“It doesn’t matter, just put it on. Here, let me.”

 

 

  


  
_1996_

  
Geraldine looked down at the necklace pooled in the bottom of the box and picked it up, cradling it in her palm. She wondered if she should keep it after all. On impulse, she dangled it tentatively over the wastebasket just to see if she could part with it. It caught the light, the gold chain glinting and the sapphire casting a tiny rainbow on the apartment wall. She couldn’t bring herself to drop it. She closed her eyes and put it in her pocket. Tears pooled and threatened to spill onto her cheeks. She took a deep breath, calming herself the way her yoga teacher taught her do back in the Eighties. She didn’t do yoga anymore – it was just a phase, and an awkward one at that. She took a last look around her apartment.  
  
Except for the wastebasket, which she was leaving behind, and the letter tacked to the wall, the apartment was now empty and clean. One would hardly have been able to tell she’d spent the last seven years of her life here. She took the letter off the wall, folded it, and slipped it into the same pocket where the necklace was sitting.  
  
Leaving the apartment, she checked to make sure she had her car keys and locked the front door for the last time. She rode the rickety elevator down to the first floor (and really, she was amazed the elevator still worked, what with all its creaks and rattles) and turned in the apartment key to the manager. It left her with a bitter taste in her mouth and an anxious, empty feeling in her stomach. Feeling hollow, she walked out of the building into the late afternoon sunshine.  
  
She glanced around the neighborhood; at all the familiar sights. This had been her home for so long – it seemed wrong to drive away from it and know she’d never return. Everything was in order, and there was no way to turn back now. She already had a new job lined up at the Pendleton Public Library. Her life wasn’t really changing that much, she reminded herself. She’d still live alone, still go to work and come home, still fend for herself all by herself. Nothing was changing except her location. A wry smile came to her lips as she wondered who she was trying so hard to convince. She could leave any minute now, but she wasn’t quite ready to go yet.  
  
Two blocks away a city park waited for her to say goodbye. Geraldine hadn’t been there in years, but suddenly she was taken with the urge to re-visit it one final time. It was strange, she thought, how she suddenly wanted to go to the park, but it was only a fleeting thought, soon forgotten as she took in the beauty of San Francisco in spring. Without warning her reverie was interrupted by a voice – an eerily familiar voice.  
  
“Okay, Joanie, you only need to watch her for a few minutes. Her grandma will be here in about twenty minutes or so, but sometimes she runs early. All of the baby’s stuff is ready to go – it’s sitting by the door. After she picks up the baby make sure you lock up the house. Jessica and I have to go, just make sure you check the mail every day and put it on the kitchen counter by the sink.”  
  
The voice made Geraldine stop in her tracks, and she immediately scanned the area for the source. Matthew? She recognized him instantly. His hair was starting to gray now, but that was to be expected. Other than that, time had been good to him. Almost too good, if she were honest. This is impossible. He still possessed that strong jaw and easy smile. He stood across the street from her, in the doorway of a modest little house, but he didn’t see her. Wanting to keep it that way, Geraldine inched behind a tree just off the sidewalk, but still peered around the trunk in disbelief.  
  
It was definitely Matthew; the man who had given her the sapphire necklace, insisted on calling her Rapunzel, and who had promised her love, marriage and someday a family. Geraldine had promised she’d be faithful to him until the end of time, convinced she would spend the rest of her life with him once he came back from the war. Now here he was, only a street away from her, and how long had he lived here? How was that even possible? Geraldine fervently wished she’d never come on this walk. To hell with that damn park, anyway.  
  
A woman appeared next to him in the doorway, and this had to be Jessica. She could only be his wife, with the way her arm threaded casually through his. She was young, maybe thirty at most, with a head of long blonde hair. Geraldine resented her immediately and let her gaze travel to the third person standing there. She was perhaps fifteen years old, holding an adorable baby about six months old. She was holding the child carefully in her arms, as if it were breakable. For the first time, Geraldine noticed the cab waiting patiently at the curb.  
  
“Don’t worry, Mr. Merriman. I’ll take great care of her,” the young girl said. She bounced the baby, who was starting to fuss. “This is my first real baby-sitting gig, if you don’t count my baby brothers and sisters – thank you so much for trusting me! You won’t regret it.”  
  
Matthew smiled at the young, eager baby-sitter with nothing but kindness. “Good,” he said. “Make sure everything goes smoothly and there might be a bonus for you when we get back.”  
  
“Have a great vacation!” the girl beamed. “You’re so lucky; winning a vacation like this! I never win anything.”  
  
In the pit of Geraldine’s stomach disgust started to burn, and soon turned into a great roiling anger.  
  
 _How dare you live here? Just a few blocks away and you never bothered to contact me? I thought you were dead! So you came back from Vietnam and just – what? Disappeared and let me think you had died?_  
  
Geraldine’s years had passed in loneliness, and here he was, married to a blonde beauty several years his junior, and still virile enough to produce children! The thought sickened her, and in a moment, all of the love and regard she had held for Matthew was replaced by a bitter hatred.  
  
If only she hadn’t come this way, she’d never have known. It would have been better not to know. She turned on her heel, refusing to visit that park one last time. After all, it was the park where Matthew had proposed marriage to her just before shipping off to Vietnam. Geraldine walked as fast as she could back to her car, trying violently not to cry, and only succeeded in blurring her vision. To her credit, however, the tears didn’t spill down her cheeks. She reached for her keys and fumbled with the lock, finally getting the door open so she could climb inside.  
  
It was a relief to be in the car. She shut the door and placed both hands on the vinyl-covered steering wheel, flexing her fingers as she struggled to control her breathing.  
  
He didn’t deserve that beautiful house, or that pretty wife, or that healthy bouncing baby. That should have been  _her_  life. She curled her hand into a fist and pounded it against the steering wheel. It isn’t fair! She felt a sob escape her dry lips, and just then an idea occurred to her. It was crazy, to be sure, but it just might work, and Geraldine was just angry enough to try it.  
  
A determined look crossed her face as she turned the ignition key, revving the engine slightly. She turned on her blinker and shifted into drive, looking carefully to make sure nobody was coming. Then she pulled out into traffic and drove the few blocks to Matthew’s house. She parked the car and took a few deep breaths, steeling her resolve.  
  
 _I am going to do this. He deserves it._  
  
Reassuring herself, Geraldine climbed out of the car and walked up the impeccably manicured pathway to the front door. Raising her hand, she knocked soundly.  
“Coming!” The baby-sitter’s youthful, perky voice called from the other side of the door. The door opened, and there she was, holding the baby and smiling.  
  
“Wow, that  _was_  quick,” she laughed, handing the baby over to Geraldine. “Easiest twenty bucks I ever made.” She paused for a second. “You  _are_  the grandma, right?”  
Geraldine hesitated, but only for a moment. “Of course I am.” She settled the baby in her arms and looked down into the baby’s blue eyes for the first time. She was so soft, but at the same time, remarkably solid. Geraldine was awed. This was going to be her baby now. She could scarcely believe it. Her breath hitched and she struggled to speak.  
  
 _Keep it together, ‘Dine_ , she scolded herself. _It’s not done yet._  
  
“Did Mr. Merriman say I was supposed to pay you, or did he already?”  
  
The baby-sitter’s eyebrows drew together and she looked a little confused. “Mr. Merriman?” Geraldine immediately wished she’d used his first name.  _Matthew_. “Oh, he did already,” the girl replied, her sunny disposition back in full force. A playful grin curled on her lips. “But you can pay me again if you want. I wouldn’t object.”  
  
“You’re funny,” said Geraldine, faking a smile in return. She felt giddy and had to stop herself from giggling madly. It was probably best not to look like a lunatic while abducting a baby; keep the baby-sitter’s suspicions at bay. “But I will give you five dollars if you help me load up the baby’s things.” She silently congratulated herself on that one. The sooner she was out of here, the better. Geraldine didn’t have a contingency plan if the child’s real grandmother were to show up.  
  
“Sure thing!” exclaimed the girl, jumping to action. She took the baby’s things, which consisted of baby food, diapers, a few changes of clothing, a car seat and some toys, out to Geraldine’s car.  
  
“Wow, you sure have a lot of stuff in your car!” the baby-sitter gushed. “Here, I know how to put the baby seat in. I’ll do it so you don’t have to lean over. My grandma has a bad back – it hurts her to lean over like that, so I do a lot of things for her. I really don’t mind. I mean, she’s a lot older than you are, but . . .” The baby-sitter trailed off, looking uncertain for the first time.  
  
“That would be great, thank you,” said Geraldine, appreciating the girl’s enthusiasm while wishing she was a little less chatty. “I’m donating all that stuff to charity.”  
Geraldine’s mind raced, trying to excuse all the luggage in her car. At the same time, she had to keep herself from talking too much. She’d found, over the years, that when it came to selling a lie, the less detail you gave, the better.  
  
In a matter of minutes the baby was secure in the back seat, suckling contentedly on a pacifier. The baby’s belongings were stuffed into the trunk, haphazardly, and Geraldine gave the baby-sitter ten dollars instead of five. Again she had to fight the urge to laugh as an imaginary conversation took place in her head.  
  
“How much did you pay for the baby?”  
  
“Only ten dollars, dahling, it vas a fabulous deal!”  
  
"Thank you again, sweetie," Geraldine said to the baby-sitter, smiling. It had been really sweet of the girl to put the car seat in for her. “I really should get going.”  
  
"You're welcome,” the girl replied. Then she waved to Geraldine and ran back up the path to lock up the house, presumably so she could go home. Geraldine started her car, her heart racing nearly as much as her thoughts, and drove off, never to return to this city again.

 

 


	3. The Old Farmhouse

_Pendleton, Oregon_

 

The sound of tires crunching on gravel was the only thing grounding Geraldine in reality as she slowly pulled her car into the driveway of her family’s old farmhouse the next day. The late afternoon sun illuminated the house from the west, and it still looked the same as she remembered. Geraldine felt as if she had stepped back in time. Any moment now her parents were going to spill out of the front door and punish her for running away. Janice would, as usual, trail behind them with her signature smirk, loving every moment of it. Geraldine shook her head to clear her mind.  
  
Looking around, she realized it wasn’t exactly as she remembered. Geraldine started cataloguing the changes that sprang up around the house. The property looked smaller – like it had been divided and sold off in chunks. The dusty lane that she and Matthew had so carefully pushed his motorcycle down was gone, replaced by a paved road that ran parallel to the house leaving barely enough room for a decent sized yard. The grass was green and overgrown, and Geraldine didn’t relish the thought of mowing it. Perhaps there would be a helpful neighbor boy in one of the new, nearby houses that she could pay for the service. She almost laughed at herself, because the nearby houses didn’t really look that new, and it really drove home how long she’d been gone – how much life went on without her. The laughter died in her throat and manifested as a cough instead, and in the back seat, the baby giggled. It was the first time the baby had laughed since leaving San Francisco, and the sound tugged at Geraldine’s heartstrings.  
  
The trip had been exhausting. Geraldine drove so carefully, obeying every traffic law and posted speed limit. It was in Klamath Falls, Oregon, after she passed a green road sign that said “State Police Next Right” and nearly had a panic attack, that she decided to stop for the night and get a motel room. She made sure it was on the other side of the city from the police station, and still her sleep was light and uneasy. She’d woken up the next morning still tired but determined to put this trip behind her.  
  
Geraldine killed the engine, opened the door and stepped out of the car. Looking up at the weathered boards of the house, she thought it could use a good coat of paint. She felt so small standing in front of it, even though it wasn’t a large house. It felt like it was looming; the peeling paint slinging accusations at her for leaving in the first place. She swallowed the sudden anxiety in her throat and forced herself to take a calming breath; tried to bury her sudden hostility toward the house, at the untended lawn, and at all the changes that were so glaringly obvious.  
  
 _The front door needs oiled._  
  
That was Geraldine’s first thought when she heard the squeaking hinges even though she was still standing by the car in the driveway. Three people came out of the front door, and Geraldine nearly had a heart attack right then and there. Blinking furiously, she realized that it was in fact not her parents and sister (or their ghosts).  
  
 _Jeff. Renee. Gina._  
  
The names popped into Geraldine’s mind in a litany of relief. Renee was Janice’s daughter, and therefore her niece. She was also the person Geraldine had been corresponding with regarding the move. She sighed at her jumpiness. They must have wanted to welcome her home. It was sweet, actually, considering they’d never met in person before.  
  
Jeff was a fairly large man with an open, honest face and a mop of black hair. Renee was a bottle blonde, wearing thick glasses that made her eyes look tiny. Her face wore a rather pinched expression despite her smile. She had none of Janice’s easy beauty – she must have taken after her father, a man Geraldine never met.  
Gina was probably thirteen or fourteen and, despite her sullen expression, resembled Janice in the tilt of her nose and spatter of freckles covering it. Geraldine realized she was reaching for a resemblance, searching for something familiar. Gina’s dark hair was twisted into dreadlocks, and Geraldine couldn’t imagine why on earth Renee would let her daughter do that to her hair.  
  
As the family of three walked up to her, Geraldine’s mind raced with every step they took, trying to come up with an excuse for the baby in the backseat of her car. She hadn’t expected anyone to meet her. Geraldine mustered up a smile as she climbed out of the car to meet the welcome wagon.  
  
“You must be Geraldine,” Renee said, brushing a strand of bad dye job out of her face. “I always wanted to meet you, but it never quite worked out, did it? I finally get to meet my aunt!” Behind Renee’s back, Gina rolled her eyes.  
  
“So, if you’re my grandma’s sister, that makes you what? My great-aunt or something?” Gina’s tone was slightly sarcastic, and ignored by everyone. Jeff gave his daughter a look that plainly said that she needed to behave, pronto. Geraldine smiled nervously as Renee enveloped her in a hug and tried not to be horrified that she was anyone’s great-anything.  
  
It was true, she’d never met her niece and for a moment Geraldine mildly regretted taking the baby before giving this new kind of family a chance. She refused to use the word kidnap, even in her own mind. It was such an exaggeration, she thought, even though every rational part of her screamed that was exactly what this was and she knew it. As if reading her thoughts, the baby began to cry, loudly. Renee jerked in surprise, and Geraldine bustled over to the car, hurrying to remove the baby from her car seat. She stood again and balanced the baby on her hip as Renee joined her, her face a mask of curiosity.  
  
“Who’s this?” she asked, her eyes wide; and then, “Can I hold her?” Geraldine hesitated for only a second, then nodded and handed the baby to Renee.  
  
“This is my granddaughter,” Geraldine lied. Frantically she tried to come up with a name for the baby.  _Why didn’t I think of this sooner? Of course the baby needs a name!_  She mentally berated herself, but it had been a stressful trip, what with the baby fussing nearly constantly and her own paranoia about being caught out. It was no wonder, really, that Geraldine hadn’t given much thought to what she was going to say about the child once she arrived.  
  
Geraldine found herself wondering if the baby realized, on some level, that she’d been kidnapped. This thought disturbed Geraldine greatly, and she blocked it immediately. What could she do now, anyway? The deed had been done. Even if she turned the car around and took the baby back, she’d still be facing jail time. May as well steal some happiness where she could and hope to God she wasn’t discovered.  
  
“I didn’t know you had children,” said Renee. “Much less grandchildren. You never mentioned her over the phone, and Mom never really talked about you all that much.”  
  
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Geraldine replied softly. “Janice and I never really got on well.” She took a deep breath, a lie formulating in her mind in mere moments. “I have the baby now. My son and his wife actually died in a car accident about three months ago, and now, well, I have her.” Geraldine hoped she sounded suitably distraught.  
  
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Renee breathed, scrunching up her face in sympathy. “I can’t even imagine…” She bounced and cuddled the baby. “What a beautiful little girl.” The baby laughed and reached up, trying to grasp Renee’s glasses. Renee chuckled and moved the little hand down and away.  
  
“Thank you,” Geraldine responded as she walked over and took the baby from Renee, who finally gave a formal introduction to her seemingly shy husband, Jeff, and her surly daughter, Gina.  
  
“Can we go now, Mom? It’s boring here, and we’ve been here all day.” Gina pulled a dreadlock over her shoulder and started playing with it. Geraldine wondered how –  _if_ – Gina managed to wash those things.  
  
“Gina!” Renee snapped, a deep frown of disapproval on her face. “Show some respect. We can go as soon as we help Auntie Geraldine unload her car.”  
  
Gina sighed petulantly and kicked at the gravel with her foot. She walked over to sit on one of the porch steps, sulking. She muttered something under her breath that suspiciously sounded like, “It’s not like we just spent all day cleaning or anything.”  
  
“You know it would go faster if you actually helped,” Jeff said, but his voice was soft and lacked discipline. Gina fixed her father with an apathetic look. “Okay,” he conceded. “Why don’t you stay in the living room and keep an eye on the baby and we’ll take care of the stuff out here.”  
  
Gina nodded but still looked as if it were a huge chore. Jeff and Renee started unloading the car while Geraldine situated the baby on a blanket on the floor, surrounded by her toys. She laughed and cooed, and Geraldine sighed in relief as the baby contented herself by playing with a stuffed yellow duck.  
  
Geraldine brought in a couple of bags and boxes, and then decided to take a look around the house, to see what had changed and what hadn’t. The front door still opened up directly onto the living room – a modest space with enough room for couches, a desk, a television and, if Geraldine remembered correctly, two little girls to chase each other around while giggling hysterically.  
  
 _“Girls, calm down! The living room isn’t a racetrack!”_  
  
Geraldine could hear her mother’s voice plain as day, as if she were standing in the room with her. She shivered a bit, haunted by the ghost of her memories. She hoped the nostalgia wore off quick.  
  
Set directly back from the living room, on the left side of the house, was the dining room and kitchen area. A small side door led outside from the kitchen, and a large window let light in from the back of the house. The table was different, nicer than the ranch style one Geraldine grew up with and polished to a high mahogany sheen.  
  
She trailed her fingers over the smooth furnish and imagined family dinners here once the baby was old enough to sit there with her. She smiled. She’d have to have Renee and her family over often. The idea of large family meals appealed to her. It was something she’d never had in San Francisco.  
  
On the right side of the living room a carpeted hallway stretched past the bathroom and the staircase that led to the second floor. The first bedroom was nestled behind the staircase. The bedroom on the first floor was small, and had been Geraldine’s, once upon a time. She walked back to the bedroom and opened the door. Her old bed was still there, but the entire room was overrun with boxes.  
  
“What’s all this back here?” she called out to her niece.  
  
“Oh, that’s just Mom’s and Grandma’s old stuff. I’ll be taking Mom’s stuff, but you can go through Grandma’s and decide what you want to keep, throw away and what you want to sell in a yard sale. Oh, and I made sure to put fresh sheets on the bed for you. I figured you’d be tired after the trip.”  
  
It was still strange to Geraldine to hear her sister referred to as somebody’s mother. Suddenly she regretted not keeping in touch. How much did she miss by being so distant?  
  
She backed out of the room and closed the door. The dusty boxes ignited her allergies, and so she beat a hasty retreat. She turned around and faced the stairs on her right, looking up with hesitation. Upstairs were the two other bedrooms, including the master bedroom. In her mind’s eye, the ghost of Janice leaned against the wall, watching her curiously.  
  
Geraldine placed one foot on the first step, startling when Jeff burst in through the front door, carrying an amazing amount of items from Geraldine’s car. Eyes wide, Geraldine rushed over to help him, taking as many things as she could and placing them on the ancient couch in the living room. She made a mental note to replace it with one of her first paychecks from the library.  
  
“My goodness, Jeff!” exclaimed Renee. “That should have been more than one trip.”  
  
“That’s all of it,” he puffed out as he set some small boxes down by the window. “I need a cigarette.”  
  
“You’re supposed to be quitting,” admonished Renee, her look skeptical. She stood in the entrance to the hallway, her hands on her hips and one eyebrow arched. Her husband waved her off like a pesky fly and stepped outside.  
  
“I’ll quit tomorrow, but for now, I need this.”  
  
“I’ll come upstairs with you,” Renee said to Geraldine, dismissing her husband and his bad habits. “I forgot my cleaning supplies up there anyway.”  
  
Geraldine simply nodded. She was feeling a bit overwhelmed by her newfound family. She led the way, traipsing up the steep incline of the steps with Renee close behind. Upstairs, she first turned to the right, to the smaller bedroom that had, once upon a time, belonged to Janice.  
  
“This is my old room,” Renee said, her voice a touch wistful. “I’m so glad you decided to take the house. I hated the thought of selling it, but Jeff and I already have a house of our own, and we’re not cut out to be landlords, you know? Anyway, there’s nothing in here. I figure you can probably turn this into the baby’s room.”  
  
Just then Jeff called up from the bottom of the staircase.  
  
“Hey,” he said. “I noticed that you didn’t have a crib or anything in that car.” Geraldine drew in a sharp intake of breath. Was he suspicious?  
  
“I don’t,” Geraldine admitted ruefully. “The one I was using in San Francisco was … old. I figured I’d just buy a new one once I arrived here.” Geraldine wasn’t sure why she jumbled her words when saying the crib was old. It was almost as if . . . as if she were about to say the crib had been someone else’s – a long time ago. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.  
  
“You probably wouldn’t have been able to cram it into your car anyway,” mused Renee.  
  
“Renee and I still have our stuff from when Gina was a baby,” said Jeff. “I can bring it over if you like.”  
  
“Oh, of course!” exclaimed Renee. “It’s not like I’m going to get pregnant again anytime soon! We’ll bring it over later tonight. I have a crib, a stroller, a lot of old baby clothes, and some toys. You shouldn’t have to buy anything.”  
  
As Geraldine and Renee descended the stairs, Renee gripping her cleaning supplies like she might somehow forget them again, she asked, “What did you say the baby’s name was again?”  
  
“I didn’t,” replied Geraldine. She threw out the first name that came to mind. “Her name is Anne. Anne Elizabeth.”  
  
“Anne, huh? I like it. Nice and simple,” she walked over to where the newly christened Anne lay on her baby blanket. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.” She crouched over the baby and bounced her fingertip off her nose. Geraldine leaned over and picked up the baby, picked up Anne and held her close, feeling protective.  
  
“Thank you so much for all of your help today,” she said, and meant it. “You’ve been a godsend.” It was true; with their friendliness and unexpected generosity, it had been a wonderful day. She looked down at the child in her arms and whispered, “See, you and me, it was meant to be.”


End file.
